


on your merry way

by alcibiades



Series: a little light in your black sea [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Cute Kids, Fluff, M/M, Steve's opinions, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner, The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:59:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcibiades/pseuds/alcibiades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the one where Steve let Tony convince him to be in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade</p>
            </blockquote>





	on your merry way

"This might be the stupidest thing I've ever let Tony convince me to do," said Steve. 

Bucky wheezed a little as the float passed by; Steve was in uniform, surrounded by a pack of kids, walking around waving, and then sitting down atop what looked like some kind of plastic gingerbread house. As Bucky watched, one of the kids, who looked to be about three or four, came over to Steve and lifted her arms in the universal gesture for 'pick me up.' Steve did, and sat her on his knee; near Bucky, a group of women let out sighs and squeals of appreciation.

"It's cute," said Bucky. His earpiece crackled with static momentarily. "Good for your reputation."

"I wasn't aware my public image was in need of rehabilitation," said Steve, glancing around. "Are you nearby?"

Bucky lifted a hand, and saw Steve's gaze snap in his direction. The little girl scooted up and put her arms around Steve, cuddling against his chest. "What I really don't understand," said Steve, "is why _Tony_ isn't here."

"He has his own float to oversee," said Bucky. "Anyway, he doesn't get the benefit of me running security for him. It's not like it's even cold -- it's sixty degrees out -- so I don't know what you're complaining about."

Steve had his hand on the child's head. "It feels like being a dancing monkey all over again," he said. The float had stopped for a moment, and then it started moving again. "I'd rather be at home."

"It's a good cause," said Bucky, slipping through the crowd along with the float. "Excuse me, miss," he said, waiting until a young woman standing directly in his path had turned around and stepped aside to keep going. "Besides, the turkey's in the oven. It'll be ready by the time we're done here. Then we can go home, you can take your uniform off --"

"Take my uniform off, huh?" said Steve, shooting a bemused glance in Bucky's direction as the float came to a stop once more and Bucky scanned the area. "And then what?"

"Steven Grant Rogers," said Bucky. "You're in the presence of children. Mind your manners."

"You sound just like your mother when you say that," said Steve. Another kid, a boy this time, older, came over and stared at Steve, clearly thinking he was way too old to sit on Steve's lap but wanting to anyway. "Hey, it's all right," said Steve. "Come here." He put out his arm, and the kid tucked himself under it, against Steve's side. "I can make room, if you want to sit down."

"You talking to me or him?" said Bucky. "That gingerbread house looks a little precarious. Don't know if it could support us both." He spotted Natasha on the other side of the crowd, standing near the front, and nodded at her. "And to answer your question, and then we can eat."

"Don't say the word 'eat' right now," Steve said. "I should have had more for breakfast." He glanced around, as they neared the center of the parade route, where he was supposed to stop and give a short interview with Matt Lauer. "Are they going to sing or anything?"

"Shouldn't you know this?" said Bucky, but he knew that the answer was that it had all been kind of a slapdash arrangement; he and Steve hadn't even gotten into town but a couple of days ago, and the invitation from Tony had been last-minute. "Nobody's going to sing. They'll introduce the float, you'll get off it and go find Matt, he'll ask you some questions, you get back on the float and continue on your merry way."

"Right," Steve said. "I remember, David and I went over it." Bucky snorted, and Steve gave an offended glance in his direction. "What?"

"Like you've ever been capable of sticking to your planned remarks before," he said. The float came to a stop, and a couple of parade officials came over to take Steve over to where Matt Lauer was standing with his microphone. Bucky watched the cameras panning around the float to show all the kids, who were smiling brilliantly and waving, except for the little girl who had been dislodged from Steve's lap -- she was reaching for Steve and pouting.

"One second," he heard Steve say to the officials, and Steve made a detour, coming over to the barrier at the side of the street. People cheered and clapped, and Steve put on his game face and waved, smiling politely.

"The fuck are you doing?" said Bucky. "Coming over here to find me kind of defeats the entire purpose of me being invisible, you know." He shouldered his way to the front anyway, and leaned over the barrier to let Steve kiss him on the cheek when Steve spotted him, sighing when he saw the cameras turning toward them. "Go talk to Matt," he said, pushing Steve away with both hands on his chest. "The sooner this is over, the sooner we get home."

Steve smiled at him and did as he was told, and Bucky backed off again, taking off his jacket and putting up his hood so he'd be a little less recognizable. He moved through the crowd, some distance away, keeping half an ear on the interview. "--and providing a safe haven for refugees from nations in crisis," Steve was saying. "I think the idea of turning people away out of fear and prejudice is not only completely the opposite of what this country stands for, it's shameful."

Bucky groaned, stopping where he was. "I take it you're referring to the issue of providing asylum to Syrian refugees, Captain Rogers," said Matt Lauer.

"Yes, I am," said Steve. "I think that on this day of all days it's worth reminding people that America is a nation of immigrants. I'm the child of immigrants; Bucky is the grandchild of immigrants. If you go far enough back, we all are, really."

"There you have it," said Matt. "Thank you, Captain Rogers. Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Happy Thanksgiving," said Steve, and allowed himself to be led back toward the float.

"That wasn't even close to what you talked about with David," said Bucky.

"Where did you go?" Steve asked, getting back on the float, waving at the crowd. "I know it wasn't, it just had to be said."

"Thank goodness Matt Lauer had the sense to end the interview before you could dig yourself a deeper hole," said Bucky, and then, when he saw Steve's head turn sharply in his direction, "I'm _not_ saying I disagree with you."

"What are you saying, then?" Steve asked. The little girl from earlier came right back up to him, lifting her arms, and he picked her up again, settling her against his hip, her cheek against his shoulder.

"I'm saying you like to stir shit," said Bucky. "Especially when people aren't expecting it, although at this point people should be expecting it from you all the time."

"Maybe it'll change someone's mind," said Steve. "What was I supposed to do? It's a big audience."

"Yeah, yeah," said Bucky. "I hope it changes someone's mind. Gonna change David's mind about ever letting you do an interview again, that's for sure."

"David likes me," said Steve.

"David likes _me_ ," said Bucky. "He's terrified of you. As he should be."

Steve snorted, and for a while focused on the crowd, walking around the float and waving at people. Soon enough they were nearing the end of the route. "Bucky?" said Steve; he'd sat down again, and this time there were a total of six kids clinging to him. 

"I'm here," said Bucky. "What's up?"

"They're telling me in my ear that there are some people waiting to meet me at the end here," said Steve. "I guess they've been waiting for a while. Do you mind?"

"You were so eager to be done with this," said Bucky. "No, of course I don't mind." He stood off to the side as the float rolled into the warehouse; there was a small crowd of people waiting with a couple of the parade officials and some police officers, and he wandered over that way, remaining as inconspicuous as he could. Steve came out, unsnapping his helmet and tucking it under his arm, and went right over to the crowd, shaking hands and signing autographs.

Natasha sidled up next to Bucky. "The Syrian refugees thing was a nice touch," she said.

"You say that to me as if I have any control over what he says," Bucky said. "Besides, he's right, he's not a politician, he doesn't represent the government, he should be able to express his opinions."

"Fair enough," said Natasha. "Nobody has ever stopped him from doing that anyway."

"Jesus no," said Bucky. "Not ever in his life. You heading out?"

"Yeah," said Natasha. "What are you guys doing?"

"I made food," Bucky said. "JARVIS is watching it for us, it oughta be ready when we get home." He raised an eyebrow, turning slightly to look at her. "You can come over, if you want."

"Thanks," Natasha said. "But I have plans, actually. Tell him I said hi; I'll see you boys later." Her hand landed on Bucky's arm for a moment, and then she melted off into the crowd again. Bucky could only tell where she was going by virtue of his own training, and when he looked back, Steve was nearing the end of the line of people.

He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn't realize he'd gotten to Bucky. "I'm a real big fan," said Bucky, and grinned when Steve looked up at him, startled. He reached out to hug Bucky, then, an arm around his neck, which got everyone else's attention -- the opposite of what Bucky wanted. "You ready to go?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Steve, and then called, in his Cap voice, "Thank you, everybody, I really appreciate you being here. Happy holidays!"

Bucky had the car waiting around the corner, and Steve gave him a smile as they got in. "You were saying about turkey," said Steve.

"JARVIS, how's the turkey doing?" Bucky asked.

"The turkey is fully cooked, sir," said JARVIS into their earpieces. "As are the mashed potatoes, yams, green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie. I have lowered the oven's temperature to 'warm.' They await your return."

"There you go," said Bucky, taking his earpiece out, glancing over at Steve. "You look kind of tired."

"I feel kind of tired," Steve said. "You could have done it with me, you know. I would have liked that."

"I know," said Bucky. "I don't -- want that many people's eyes on me, though. Not yet."

"All right," said Steve. "I understand." He leaned over and kissed Bucky. "I'm glad you were there, though."

"Yeah," Bucky said. "Me too." And he had been; it had given him a certain peace of mind to have eyes on Steve, like it usually did. He piled out of the car after Steve when they got back to the tower. When they got up to their apartment and went in, it was filled with the smell of food, and Steve groaned, starting to strip out of his uniform right away. Bucky hung his jacket up and went over to the oven, opening it up and starting to take all the dishes out. By the time he was done, Steve had come back, in a t-shirt and sweatpants, with that pinched look he sometimes got when he was really hungry.

"Hey, go for it, pal," said Bucky, handing him the carving knife. He watched with amusement as Steve cut up the turkey and immediately put several pieces into his mouth, then caught Bucky watching and froze. "What would your mother say?" he asked.

"What would _your_ mother say," Steve countered, mouth still half full. He finished with the turkey, though, then got out plates, handing one over to Bucky. They loaded up and went to sit down on the couch. "What's even on TV?" said Steve. "Isn't it a bunch of Christmas movies and football?"

"I had JARVIS record the dog show," said Bucky. "If you want to watch that."

"Yes," said Steve, so they sat there eating and watching the dog show. Afterwards, Steve stretched out on the couch with his feet in Bucky's lap, and said, "It wasn't actually so bad."

"What wasn't?" Bucky asked. "The parade?"

"No," said Steve. "Just, like I said, the feeling like a dancing monkey, it kind of weighs on you."

"Yeah," Bucky said. "I bet." He rested his hand on Steve's knee. "Was it worth it, though?"

"I think so," said Steve. "Seemed to make a lot of people happy." He yawned expansively, so much so that Bucky could see the back of his throat. "Is this the part where we fall asleep on the couch?"

"I think this is supposed to be the part where we talk about what we're thankful for," said Bucky, watching a very handsome rough collie bounce across the ring. He looked over at Steve, who was a little flushed and had his eyes half-closed. "But I think we both already know that."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, shifting slightly, reaching down and grabbing Bucky's hand. "Yeah, I think you're right."

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all inaccuracies regarding the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade are entirely my fault. Feel free to come tell me about them (or just, you know, say hello) on [on tumblr.](http://dorkbait.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
